Just Coffee
by Nighthawk88
Summary: <html><head></head>It's just coffee, but she wants more than that.</html>
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Warehouse 13._

_**Author's Note**_

* * *

><p><strong>Just Coffee<strong>

You shift the grocery bags to one arm to dig your keys out of your pocket. You're leaning into the car to place the bags on the floor just behind your seat when she leans against the car and speaks. You jump - startled - and nearly hit your head on the roof of the car, but you smile when you see her. You're still smiling even as you glare at her. "You did that on purpose," you accuse her.

She gives you an innocent look. You probably would have believed it, but there's a glint in her eyes that suggests that she enjoyed your reaction far too much. She smirks and tells you that you're awfully jumpy today.

Your smile dims because you know she's right. You just don't understand why. You've been looking around and glancing back over your shoulder ever since you left the market.

She asks you if you want to get a coffee with her. Your smile returns - just as bright as before. You brush off your incomprehensible bout of paranoia and forget about the groceries in the back of your car. You accept her offer, and she smiles up at you. She reaches for your hand and starts to lead you in the direction of the small coffee shop just down the street.

When she doesn't let go once you've begun walking, you look down and stare at your joined hands, but you don't say anything to her about it. She releases your hand to open the door for you. You smile and thank her, but you also shove your freed hands into your pockets almost awkwardly. If she notices your discomfort, she doesn't say anything as she follows you inside.

You order your coffee and pick a table by the window as she orders her own. You stare out the window as you wait for her, and it escapes your notice that you are playing absently with your coffee cup - sliding it back and forth across the table. It's an obvious sign of your anxious state. She looks at you with concern when she meets you at your table. You smile weakly when she asks if everything is alright. She doesn't seem entirely convinced, but she sits opposite you and easily draws you into a conversation. Soon enough, you're smiling genuinely again at her and watching as she talks animatedly, using wild hand gestures to emphasize her points.

Everything about her is different. She's taller - but still shorter than you. She's blonde. She's bubbly and carefree. Her eyes are full of light and laughter instead of darkness and anger, but maybe that's a good thing. You've had too much pain and heartbreak and disappointment in the last few years. You need someone who will make you smile and laugh again - someone who will smooth all the jagged pieces of your broken heart until they are able to fit back together once again - without those troublesome telltale holes of pieces you've both lost and gained.

She can do that. She's already doing that.

With a little time, she could even be your 'one'.

She says something that has you laughing exuberantly. She watches with a small smile as you try to contain your laughter - the other patrons are starting to stare. Her hand comes to rest atop yours. You jump at the sudden contact, and your laughter comes to an abrupt end. She's been watching you - her eyes alight with determination - since you started laughing. Her thumb rubs a soothing pattern over your knuckles. You stare at her as she begins to lean in - slowly, giving you time to back out if you need to.

Your first time kissing a woman.

I turn away unable to watch her kiss you. I had always thought - hoped - that your first would be with me. That isn't possible now, and I know I must have run out of chances by now. I broke you too many times - this last was the worst. You never deserved that. You deserve someone who won't break you. Someone who is nothing like me. Someone like her.

She will make you happy. I can't ruin this for you.

Perhaps, if I had come to my senses sooner…

Well, a number of mistakes would have been avoided, I suppose.

It was for the best that I sought you out first, instead of going to the Warehouse. I doubt I could bear it if I had been returned to my position, only to find you with another. To work beside you daily, always knowing what we could have had, even as you built a family with her. I look back one last time, hoping to commit every aspect of you to memory.

You rush out of the small shop. She's right on your heels, trying to find out what went wrong. You stop, and turn to her. You're both speaking quietly now, trying not to be overheard by any passersby. She looks at you sadly, but she nods her understanding. You pull her into an embrace, but she pulls back, clearly uncomfortable. You watch her drive away with something akin to remorse - you never wanted to hurt her, but you know you did.

You glance around again. Your gaze sweeps past me once, before you take notice of me. You inhale sharply, "Helena." You're more disbelieving than surprised - my heart aches at the thought. As you cross the street you try to constrain your features into a blank mask, but that never did work on me. Despite your best efforts, you were always as an open book to me. That hasn't changed.

Curiosity, hurt and wariness all struggling for dominance just beneath your carefully composed veneer. "What are you doing here?" You attempt to sound nonchalant, but your voice cracks slightly at the end. You hardly even notice. Your gaze has hardly left mine since you first spotted me - not that I've fared any better. You always did have a way of drawing me in, capturing my attention like no other.

"I- I needed to apologize to you. You were right. I was running, from the Warehouse, yes. Worse, I was running from my truth, and I knew it. Much as I tried to avoid admitting to it, I was running, and I knew it. I couldn't walk away from my truth any longer." You're slow to hope. You've had all hope ripped away all too frequently - especially where I am involved. "It was inevitable, really. H.G. Wells was never destined for normalcy."

You swallow tightly, "So, you're back?"

"Well, not officially. I have yet to speak with the Regents - or anyone from the Warehouse, but yes, I am back. If you'll have me?"

"Why?" You're surprised that the word left your lips, but that thought has been at the forefront of your mind ever since you saw me. That word broke the barrier. You stand a little taller, more rigidly. Now that you've asked, you're determined not to let it go without pulling from me all the answers you need. "Why now? Why not when the Astrolabe was safe? Why not in Boone?" Hurt colors your tone and fuels your quest for an answer. "What changed, Helena? Because the last time I saw you, you were adamant that you and the Warehouse were such a bad combination."

I reach out and slip my hand into yours. You try to pull your hand out of my grasp, but I hold tight. You settle for glaring - rather adorably - at me when you realize that you won't be able to free your hand without causing a scene. I fight back a smile, knowing it would only anger you further.

"You."

"What?"

"I realized that what we have is too important for me to let my silly fears get in the way. I was afraid that I would slip up again; that the next time I would end up hurting you in a way far worse than last time. I was afraid that the next time, I might be so lost that not even you would be able to pull me back before I destroyed everything."

"That won't happen."

You're so sure. I wish I had half of the confidence you've always had in me - through even the worst of my moments. You twist your hand in mine, not pulling away, and slip your fingers between my own. You step closer, just inches between us now, wondrously invading my senses. My skin buzzes as though I had run an electric current through it. The scent of coffee lingers on your breath, sweet and chocolatey, mixed with a scent I can't quite place - not quite strawberry. It's torture - this struggle not to lean in those last few inches and see just what that mixture tastes like.

"Helena, look at me." Your words are sharp. My eyes slip closed for a second. I gather my wits about me quickly and meet your gaze once more. "That isn't going to happen. You've come so far since then. I know you don't see it, but you have. You're not alone anymore, either. You have me-" You blush suddenly and rush to correct yourself. "I mean us, all of us. Pete, Claudia, Artie - even Steve and Abigail - we're all your family."

"I think you had it right the first time, darling." I smile and lift my hand to your face, brushing my thumb lightly over your still-red cheek, causing your blush to deepen. "I can not say I truly know whether I returned because I decided not to let fear rule me, or if I returned simply because I could no longer stand to be away from you." The blush that lights your face is the most magnificent yet.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Warehouse 13._

* * *

><p>Claudia is the most excited to see me. Pete is standoffish until he pulls me aside and questions "my intentions" with regards to you. I'm absolutely forbidden from leaving your side ever again - not allowed to die or get myself locked up in 'scary regent prison' again either. Arthur seems to immediately understand the permanence of my presence. He simply smiles - a gesture which goes unnoticed by the others - when you and I walk in together and returns to his book without a word.<p>

Dinner is a particularly boisterous affair.

Pete and Claudia regale Steve and Abigail with tales of our "adventures". The eagerness with which the stories are received suggests that I was a taboo topic during my absence. You reach for my hand beneath the table, sensing my more morose thoughts. When I look at you, I find you watching me with a gentle look in your eyes. You tell me you've forgiven me. You tell me that we're not chained to our past any longer, that we are forging a new, wonderful future together. You tell me that you love me, that you've always loved me, that you'll love me for all of time. All of this with that one look that makes my breath catch and my eyes sting with unshed tears.

"Will you two knock it off? You're ruining my appetite with all this sickeningly sweet, mushy stuff."

Your jaw tenses slightly. If you were sitting closer, you would've hit him.

"Is that a bad thing?" You ask innocently. "You look like you might've put on a few pounds recently, Pete."

"Hey!"

Claudia pokes at his stomach teasingly. "Myka's got a point there. You might wanna lay off the cookies for a while, Pete."

"So not true! These puppies are rock solid. See?" Pete lifts his shirt, revealing his abs. He grabs Claudia's hand and pats it against his stomach. She pulls her hand back quickly, a disgusted look on her face.

"Children," Arthur mumbles. "Put your shirt down," he snaps at Pete. "We're trying to eat here."

"We were," Pete agrees, "until Mykes and H.G. started making googly-eyes at each other. See, they're doing it again!"

Claudia rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs. "Dude, you should be used to it. They always do that."

Pete snickers loudly. "H.G. had my tesla aimed at me, and they were all making with the eye-sex."

I smirk a little at that, unable to deny that I found you captivating from the start.

"Pete!"

You sink down in your chair, glaring at him. He grins at you, mistakenly believing you're sinking down in embarrassment. I can only roll my eyes at his naivety. I subtly slide my leg over, in front of yours, effectively keeping you from kicking him as you intend. I can't help smiling when you shoot me a disappointed look. Foiled, you slide back up in your chair. "Let them have their fun, Myka. They're just happy that you're happy." You roll your eyes at that, but your posture relaxes. Though your desire for revenge is appeased, at least for the moment - I have no doubt that you shall find a suitable way to repay Pete at a later time.

Claudia snorts out a laugh. "That's nothing. I was moments away from becoming the Human Torch, and they looked like they wanted to jump each other."

"Oh, and Russia! Artie was missing - possibly being tortured or killed - and they wouldn't stop flirting!" Pete puts on his best love-struck expression. "Oh, H.G., you're so amazing, but I knew you slipped this into my pocket." He switches to a horrible impression of my accent - it comes off rather snobbish. "Oh, Myka, you're the only person that even comes near my level of brilliance. So, obviously, I thought you'd know." He switches back to the love-struck look. "Oh, H.G., I knew that you'd think that. After all, you're the only person who has a clue about what I'm talking about when I start speaking 'nerd'. By the way, did I happen to mention just how much I like older women."

I try not to smile at his impersonations. You're glaring fiercely at him. I keep my hand on your knee, keeping you from kicking him, but you reach for a dinner roll and throw it instead. The roll makes a satisfying sound as it hits him squarely in the face. Pete catches it as it drops, still laughing with Claudia and the others.

"That's enough of that," Arthur snaps, though he doesn't appear overly irritated by the antics. "I'm glad you were all so concerned over my disappearance," he remarks dryly.

"I do believe that I was the one that ended up coming to your rescue."

"Some rescue that was," he grumbles. "You almost ended up getting yourself killed instead."

You grasp my hand tightly. My frequent near-death experiences are still a sore spot - one I know we will be having words over in the near future.

Pete seems to sense the shift in the mood. "Hey, we never did follow up on your 'many of my lovers were men' comment. So, spill. I want details." His grin suggests that he's already imagining those details quite vividly.

"A lady never divulges details, Mr. Lattimer," I smirk. "Let's just say that I often found women to be delightfully intriguing, while the men of my time were rather... easy. Something that hasn't changed much, in my experience."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

I smirk at his indignant squawk. "You were... easily convinced to allow me access to my old home."

"You tricked Myka too," he protests.

"Yes, after she tricked me," I agree, making the difference clear, "I already found Myka to be quite... intriguing." I turn to meet your gaze. I raise our joined hands and place a soft kiss on the back of your hand, without taking my eyes off of yours. The ringtone. Every time you figured me out. Every time you caught me off guard. My Cavorite. The grappler. My archaeologist outfit. "I suppose our attempts to impress each other were a little over the top, weren't they, darling?" I tease, smiling fondly.

"And unnecessary," You smile.

"Hmm, maybe. Though perhaps you would've never fallen for me if I hadn't used the Cavorite."

You smile and shake your head at the bad joke. "I think I would've fallen for you even if you had turned out to be the old man that the rest of the world thinks of as 'H.G. Wells'."

"Eww." Claudia scrunches her face in disgust.

You frown, a light blush rising up your neck as you realize how that sounded, but I know what you meant.

"I'm leaving before you two get any more gross." Before Claudia leaves, she pulls us both into a tight hug. "Seriously, though, I'm glad you're back, H.G., and I'm glad you're both finally together. Ooh, tomorrow, will you work on the grappler with me? I've been wanting to build a new one ever since yours was lost, but it didn't feel right to build it without you here."

"Of course, dear." I glance at you and raise an eyebrow in question. My grappler was lost? You shift uncomfortably. One more thing we shall have to discuss.

"Great! C'mon, Jinxy, you and I are going to demolish Pete in that new game he picked up." She pulls Steve out of his seat and half-drags him out of the room.

Pete is chasing after them moments later. "Not a chance. I am the Call of Duty champion. No way, you're gonna beat me."

"Someone should make sure they don't break anything," Arthur grimaces as he rises from his chair. He pauses in the doorway and turns back towards us. "It's good to have you back, H.G."

"Thank you, Arthur. It is good to be back."

He nods, smiling, and leaves, leaving us alone - I'm surprised to find that Abigail has managed to make her exit unnoticed - at last.

I rise from my chair and offer my hand to assist you. You smile, take my hand and allow me to pull you from your seat. "Come now, dear. I shall assist you in clearing the table, and you can tell me all about how my grappler was 'lost'."

You blush and busy yourself with clearing the table, trying to hide your flustered state, as you explain to me the incident with the corrosive artifact. "If Artie hadn't brought it with, I don't think we would've made it out of there alive."

I nod and begin the task of washing the dishes. I leave the drying to you, as you are more familiar with where everything belongs. "I will have to thank Arthur for having the foresight to bring the device along." I pass a dish to you with a wry grin. "Leaving it in a box," I scoff.

Just the lightest shade of red graces your features as you grin, a little sheepishly. "So, you're not upset that we broke it?"

"Hardly. I value your life far more than any piece of technology I could design. Claudia and I shall have to build more than just one though. Such a device should be standard issue for all Warehouse agents. I will have to insist, however, that you add it to your working arsenal rather than shelving it."

You just roll your eyes at my teasing. I pass you the last dish, and once you turn away, I lean against the counter to enjoy the display. The platter was strategically saved until the end as I remember it being stored in a rather high cabinet - one even you have to stretch to reach. You turn and catch my wandering gaze. Your lips twitch upwards in a small smirk.

"You did that on purpose," You accuse, though there's no objection in your voice, only amusement.

"One of my better ideas," I admit without a hint of remorse.

You grin and move in closer to me. "Oh yeah?" We're close enough now that I have to look up slightly to meet your eyes.

"Damn it!"

The sudden shout startles us. You step back a little and spare a glance in the direction of the noise.

"Oh, yeah! Who's the greatest? That's right, I am! I am the Queen of Call of Duty!"

"Hah!"

"Hey- Wait a sec! That is so not fair!"

"Oh yeah! I'm the Queen- I mean, the King! I'm the King of Call of Duty!"

You laugh quietly at their antics and bring a hand up to rub the back of your neck - one of your nervous gestures. "Do you want to go upstairs? It'd drown out a bit of the trash talk. Pete and Claudia can get pretty into that game of theirs."

I raise an eyebrow. "Or it would be less likely that someone would walk in on us?"

"Yes, that thought crossed my mind too," Myka grinned as she reached for my hand.

I glanced back at the doorway. I was certain I had seen movement, but there was no one there. Before I could dwell on it, Myka was leading me upstairs.

Everything else was trivial in comparison.

**End.**


End file.
